Judge Franklin Hayes was waiting there for him, looking almost exactly as he had when he’d broken into Angel’s line to demand Chapel’s presence. The judge hadn’t shaved in a day or so and steel-colored stubble had broken out on his cheeks. He looked just as angry as he had when they’d spoken.
“Took you long enough,” Hayes said.
DENVER, COLORADO: APRIL 14, T+57:01
Hayes steepled his fingers in front of him and glared at Chapel. “You’re seven hours late, Captain.” He turned to his security guard. “This is Reinhard, my head of security. He’s been in charge here since you refused to come earlier.”
Reinhard was a big guy, broad through the shoulders like a linebacker, though not much taller than Chapel. He had a crew cut and a strong jaw, but his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Even without seeing his eyes, though, Chapel could tell the man was giving him the once-over.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Reinhard said.
Hayes chuckled. “Oh, Chapel’s got his qualifications. Director Banks was happy to send them along. He’s a war hero, Reinhard. Lost his arm in Afghanistan, fighting for your freedom.”
“A cripple, then,” Reinhard said.
“All the best military training. He served with the Army Rangers, that’s quite an elite force,” Hayes went on, smiling. The judge had the look of a career politician. He’d probably had acting lessons to be able to look so jovial and friendly. But his eyes gave him away. They were like chips of glass in his face. Hard and cold. “Of course, that was several years ago.”
“He does look pretty old,” Reinhard agreed.
“Come, come. He’s had plenty of time to mature and gain wisdom, let’s say.” Hayes put his hands down on the desk. “Plenty of time for that. He hasn’t seen much field service since he lost his arm, of course…”
“So they sent you a desk jockey,” Reinhard grunted. “Huh.”
“Are you suggesting he isn’t the best man for the job?” Hayes asked, a look of fake shock creasing his face. “Are you suggesting they could have sent someone better?”
“Maybe one of the rent-a-cops who works over at the mall,” Reinhard said.
Chapel fumed in silence.
He understood this game. He knew what Hayes wanted to get across but was too slick to say outright. The judge hadn’t gotten as far in his career as he had without knowing how to lay on a good line of bullshit, but still make himself understood.
He was saying he didn’t trust Chapel. He was also saying he did trust Reinhard, his own man, and that he wanted to keep Reinhard in charge and let Chapel play second fiddle here.
Time to fix that.
“Your Honor,” he said, “you’ll want to move to your left.”
Hayes didn’t have time to ask why before Chapel’s pistol was out, held tight in his right hand and pointed at Reinhard’s throat. The security guard was smart enough to keep his hands visible and not flinch.
“Take off your sunglasses,” Chapel said.
“I’ll be damned if—”
“Take them off now,” Chapel insisted, using his best officer voice.
Hayes scooted to the left in his rolling chair.
Slowly, using both hands, Reinhard reached up and took off his sunglasses. His eyes were a cold blue. They narrowed as he stared at Chapel. “You just bought yourself some trouble,” he said. “And you were already fully stocked.”
“Shut up,” Chapel told him.
A lamp with a brass shade sat on Hayes’s desk. Chapel grabbed it and shone the light directly in Reinhard’s eyes.
“—the fuck,” Reinhard said, squinting, turning his face away from the light.
“Okay. He’s clean,” Chapel said, and put the lamp back on the desk. “Reinhard, you go outside and find your men. Tell every one of them to remove his sunglasses and keep them off. Nobody’s wearing sunglasses today. You got it?”
“Why the hell should I—”
“The judge knows why,” Chapel said.
Reinhard turned to look at Hayes, who just nodded. The security guard shook his head in disgust and stormed out of the office.
Chapel holstered his weapon, then went over to close the door.
“Huh,” Hayes said. “I hadn’t thought of that. If he was a chimera, his nictitating membranes would have closed, by reflex.”
Chapel nodded.
“I’ve known Reinhard for years,” Hayes pointed out. “You think I’m dumb enough to let one of the monsters join my team?”
Chapel inhaled sharply through his nose. “I haven’t made up my mind yet how dumb you are,” he said.
Hayes’s face started to turn red, but Chapel wasn’t about to let him talk. He would just spout more insults or threats, and that wasn’t getting them anywhere.
“I’m here to do one job, which is to keep you alive,” Chapel pointed out. “Sometimes you may want to doubt my methods or to question my orders. Don’t. I’ve taken down two chimeras in the last two days. I know how it’s done. Reinhard clearly doesn’t even know what they are. He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know how dangerous they really are.”
“He knows how to shoot,” Hayes said.
“No. No, he doesn’t. Not this time. I don’t know where he got his training — if he’s ex-military or he just took a six-week correspondence course out of the back of Guns and Ammo. It doesn’t matter. Whoever taught him to shoot told him to always aim for center mass. That doesn’t work with chimeras. They have reinforced rib cages. You can put six slugs in a chimera, right over his heart, and it won’t even slow him down. You have to aim for the face. Their skulls are just like ours.”
Hayes opened his mouth. He looked like he was going to say something nasty. But then he closed it again and just nodded.
“Okay,” the judge said. “We’ve got a little time before the convoy is ready to move out. Why don’t you have a seat, so we can talk?”
DENVER, COLORADO: APRIL 14, T+57:12
“First off, let’s talk about why I’m here. The chimeras,” Chapel said. He kept one eye on the window. It was unlikely that Quinn would climb up the side of the courthouse to get to the office, but you never knew. “I’m sorry I’m late getting here. But I wasn’t wasting that time. I’ve learned a great deal about them in the last two days.”
“Oh?” Hayes asked.
“I don’t know how much you’re cleared to know,” Chapel said. “But you do need to know what’s coming for you. It’s a chimera named Quinn. He’s supposed to be the strongest of them, and one of the most vicious.”
Hayes turned around and got a bottle of bourbon out of a sideboard. He offered Chapel a glass, but he turned it down. “Maybe I don’t want to know some of this,” he said, pouring himself a healthy drink. His tough guy act had evaporated like summer rain on a hot sidewalk. Interesting.
Chapel shook his head. “I’m not trying to scare you. But you need to understand how serious this is. The chimeras were given a list of victims. A kill list. For the most part they were allowed to choose their own targets. But this Quinn was given specific orders to come here. For you.”
“Okay,” Hayes said. He sipped at his liquor. “Okay, but — why?”
“That’s exactly what I’d like to know.” Chapel sighed. “Some of the names on the list make sense. The scientists who created the chimeras are there. People who worked at Camp Putnam. I notice you aren’t asking a lot of questions here. You know about Camp Putnam.”
Hayes set his glass down. “Tom Banks is a personal friend of mine,” he said, meeting Chapel’s eye. “He gave me a briefing. One I’m definitely not cleared for. But he agreed with you — I needed to know.”